The End of All Things
by Rufi
Summary: Voldemort is defeated, but Ginny, Harry's fiancé, has been killed. Harry suffers threw his loss to find that his life does not end when his first love's life does. SLASH ... Abandoned so sorry, it may come back later.
1. Chapter 1

It was the happiest day the Wizarding World had seen in seventeen years, Lord Voldemort had truly been defeated and they could finally live in peace. It was also the most tragic death Harry had ever faced. One of Harry's most loyal and true friends had died the previous night, his fiancé, Ginny Weasley. She had been hit with an Avada Kedavra curse meant for Harry.

Harry had finally killed Voldemort and was stumbling towards Ginny, who was tending to Hermione's wounds. Lucius Malfoy, in a fit of rage after seeing his master killed, summed up his last once of energy and aimed to kill Harry, but missed, hitting Ginny instead.

Harry was distraught, he screamed at the top of his lungs until his voice gave out. Then he hunched over Ginny's lifeless body, sobbing into her ginger hair.

The funeral was two days later, and Harry would have given a eulogy, except he could not abide to go up and speak about the happy moments of Ginny's life so soon after her death.

The Weasley house hold was quite after Ginny's funeral, ginger heads bowed in mourning. Mrs. Weasley was sobbing into her husband's shoulder, Hermione sobbing onto Ron's. Fleur was trying to comfort Bill as he cried into his own hands, whispering about his only little sister dieing, in between his sobs. The twins and Charlie huddled around a picture of Ginny, their fallen tears streaking the glass as Ginny waved and smiled from inside the frame.

Harry couldn't stand to be in the same room as the Weasley's, they all had Ginny's hair and Fred and George and Mrs. Weasley shared her eyes. Every where Harry turned, he saw Ginny, some how. He was dieing inside, and wished Ginny would come comfort him. He slumped up the stairs to his room, locking the door behind him, locking out the rest of the world, and then he crumpled to the floor in a heap of robes and sobs.

When everyone one went up to bed and found that Harry had locked himself in his room, they decided to give him some time. "It's not easy, dealing with death," Fleur said mournfully. Harry did not come out of his room for breakfast the next day, or for any other meal.

Mrs. Weasley came to his room three days later, trying to coax Harry to come out and eat. Harry did not respond, nor did he come down stairs for any food. Everyone started to fret, worrying over Harry in between mourning over Ginny. Soon, Harry was all that was on their mind. They had accepted Ginny's death, and were perfectly happy speaking to her portrait, although it was no where near the same. 

Hermione was trying her best to comfort Harry, but he wouldn't let anyone mend his shattered heart. At first, he was trying to save himself, for Ginny's sake. Harry didn't want to leave his memories of her and move on, as if she had never existed. He wanted to suffer for what he thought was his own stupidity. He should have realized Malfoy would try something like that; he should have killed Malfoy before he ever got the chance.

Soon, Harry realized that all things must come to an end, even grief. How Harry came to find this out? Severus Snape decided to pay Harry a little visit. He lectured Harry, first for his irrational behavior and how it was affecting the people he loved, then on life, and how Ginny would have felt terrible if she had been alive to see Harry like this. At first Harry yelled at Snape, telling him to sod off and never come back, but, as he mulled over Snape's words, he came to realize how true they were.

The night after Harry's talk with Snape, Ginny entered Harry's dream, telling him how right Snape was, and how she new she would die, in the end, and how something better would come for Harry. She believed that Harry's something better had been around longer than she had, and had cared for him since the start.

In the beginning, Harry fought what Ginny said every inch of the way. As their conversation branched into more sensitive areas, Harry realized that Ginny was right. Ginny was always right, at the end of all things.

It was almost six months after Ginny's death, and Harry had been out of his room for a week. He still found it difficult to socialize with the family, for they were all so pleasant and seemed unaffected by their loss. He knew they had suffered to, but wished they would show it a bit more. It seemed inhuman, to Harry, to be able to talk about Ginny. Harry didn't think he would ever speak of her again, it was too painful. 

"You know what, Harry? I never realized what a git you can be, locked up in your room for days on end. Hermione was really worried," Ron said to Harry, trying to make his best mate smile. It was slight, but Harry did smile.

"Oh, shut up, Ron. You were far more worried than I," Hermione said exasperatedly as she thumped her husband on the head, "Not that I wasn't worried, Harry. You had me terrified. It was unbearable, not being able to help. It's good, having you to eat with the family." "Hey! That's no way to treat the man you're married to!" Ron said, scowling and rubbing his aching head. "You're a little of topic, bro," Fred said just before George spoke up, "It is rather amazing that Snape finally clamed you down. What'd he say?" "Oh," Harry said, not willing to talk about Snape just yet, "He was just rather rash. Just Snape. He always sort of, breaks through my barriers, I suppose."

Two weeks later, Harry was much more relaxed around the Weasley's. Everyone had learned to keep quite about Ginny, for Harry proved to be extremely sensitive and had locked himself in his room once more, but luckily only for two days. Harry was starting to heal.

It was around the beginning of December and everyone had just finished putting up Christmas decorations on the outside of the Burrow, and had just sat down to dinner. "The decorations look lovely, dears," Mrs. Weasley said cheerily. Hermione, Fleur, and Mrs. Weasley had done the inside decorations while the boys were outside. "You did a fine job to mum," Fred said, and then George added, "Hermione and Fleur did excellent as well." Mrs. Weasley was about to thank them just as someone knocked at the front door. "Oh, I'll go get it!" Mrs. Weasley sung out happily instead. "Well, now that mum's having fun with some poor folk asking for donations," Fred commented, giving his twin a knowing glance, "why don't we break out the eggnog?" George finished enthusiastically. Hermione smiled, getting up to pour everyone some festive to drink.

"I just love this stuff," Ron said about half an hour later, after his third glass, "It's delicious really rather… delicious." "Can't hold a half pint, that one," Fred whispered to Harry. Harry giggled girlishly, the alcohol having some odd effects on him too. "Honestly, the liquor isn't that hard!" George said to Fred and Hermione, who were not affected by the alcohol in the least bit.

"Oh, God," Hermione sighed loudly, "Cone on, Ronald, it's off to bed for you." "But Hermione," Ron whimpered pathetically. "Don't you but Hermione me! You're a married man and if you'd like to stay you'll go to bed," Hermione said as she promptly took Ron by the ear and dragged him upstairs.

With all the excitement quieting down, Harry could over hear the conversation Mrs. Weasley was having. Harry had almost forgotten about their unexpected guest. 

"Oh!" Harry heard Mr. Weasley say, "Well, now that they've quieted down I suppose you can go talk to him!" Harry heard the shuffling of feat and the billowing of robes as the mystery guest approached the parlor. Harry looked up to great him, but was shocked to find Severus Snape standing in the doorway.

"Good evening, Mr. Potter," He said smoothly, "May I have a word?" Harry nodded dumbly as Snape moved to sit down. "Out, you two!" Mrs. Weasley said, "This conversation is not one you should eavesdrop on."

Harry smiled sheepishly at Snape, wishing he could cover his nervousness with some slightly less embarrassing. Having a flushed face and being just a wee bit drunk isn't exactly the way Harry had planned to thank Snape for all the help he had given Harry. Especially not now, now that Harry was falling for him. 

"No need to thank me, Potter," Snape said arrogantly, "I feel it is my duty to help the needy." "Shut up, you stuck up prick," Harry ground, feeling rather stupid and rather guilty and also rather aroused. His emotions never had been too orderly. "Watch your tongue, Potter. People could get the wrong idea about you," Snape said, his customary smirk planted on his thin, sallow face. 

Harry gasped, and then ran out the parlor and up several flights of stairs to his room. He was panting when he closed the door to his room, leaning against it and panting heavily. He just wasn't prepared to face the facts. He knew he was bi, and had known for quite sometime. Seeing Snape be so open about his own sexuality had scared Harry.

"I'm just not ready for you, Severus," Harry whispered before he collapsed on his bed, hoping he hadn't ruined his chances in one night.

When Harry awoke the next day, there was a note on his bedside tabling from Snape. It read: 

I'm sorry to have frightened you, Harry. Meet me at the Leaky Cauldron so we can finish our talk. Just ask Tom for my room. I promise I'll behave myself, no worries.

-Snape

"Oh, Snape," Harry whispered quietly to himself, "You can be the most adorable of gits."

Harry was in his own little dram land as he walked down the stairs to breakfast. "What, did Snape invite you for tea?" George said sarcastically. "Yes, actually," Harry said dreamily as he sank into his chair at the table. "Oh, Harry's got a date," Fred and George said unison. "Would you quit shouting?" Ron mumbled out, his head pounding. "Aww, poor Ron," Fred said, "He got hung-over 'cause he drank to much eggnog!" George said, then he and his twin started laughing loudly, just to piss Ron off.

Ron moaned, thumping his head against the table. "I don't think that'll help, Ron," Hermione said with a slight lilt in her voice. "Be nice to the poor guy," Harry said, even though he was laughing himself. "Nice? To that sod? Why we'd be sane before we did that!" Fred and George said as tears of laughter came spilling out of their eyes.

The whole table was an uproar until Mrs. Weasley came in, saying that if they didn't quite down they'd get no breakfast. They complied, although Fred and George threw silent giggle fits occasionally.


	2. Chapter 2

It was just about noon when Harry entered the Leaky Cauldron. He had asked Tom for the room number, and was currently walking up the stairs, trying to keep calm. He wasn't sure if he could face Snape again. The man could be rather terrifying.

He knocked on the door to room twelve, and it swung open on its own accord. Snape was sitting in a chair in the corner, a small wall lamp giving off the only light in the room. There was a window, but Snape had drawn the curtains, which had turned the room dark.

"Please, sit down," Snape said warmly, waving his wand in summoning of a chair. Harry was surprised Snape could be warm; it was cooler in his room than outside. Harry shivered involuntarily, folding his arms and shoving his hands in his armpits. "I'm sorry, Potter, are you cold?" Snape asked with a slight air of concern in his voice. "Just a tad," Harry replied nonchalantly. "I'll heat up the fire than, shall I?" Snape said as he pointed his wand at the fireplace, causing a merry fire to spring to life.

Snape set his book down on his lap, looking at Harry for the first time. "I'm sorry I frightened you, last time we met, Harry," Snape said sincerely. Harry was a bit befuddled for Snape had always called him Potter, never Harry. Snape seemed to read Harry's mind, for he said, "You don't mind, do you? You may call me by my first name as well, if it suits you." "Oh, it's fine… Severus, really," Harry said nervously. Snape smiled, seeming complete out of character. Harry liked the new Snape, this Severus man, much better than the old Snape.

"I was told by Mrs. Weasley that even though you loved Ginny, you always had a thing for men," Severus said, his smile had dissipated and his face was now blandly neutral, "Mrs. Weasley said you fell for men with my looks, and that I ought to give it a try." "Oh," Harry said. He supposed Ginny had been complaining to her mum about his tendencies. They weren't to terribly bad, just a bit out of character.

"Well, just so you know: I'm not ready for that sort of thing," Harry stated, hoping he didn't sound unsure of himself, for he certainly felt unsure. "Well, not yet, anyways," He added, his voice shaking. "Quit being such a coward Potter," Severus said, falling back into Snape mode, "I'm not going to rape you. I wouldn't dream of it in my wildest nightmares." Harry was momentarily shocked by Snape's sudden mood swing, but quickly snapped back, "Shut-up, you ugly old git." "Just like old times," Severus said, smiling. "Uh, yeah…" Harry said, confused and wondering how bi-polar Snape was.

"Well, I've apologized, you may leave now," Severus said. "Have a fun day; don't get into to much trouble, and all that." "Yes, sir," Harry said laughingly. Severus laughed too, and Harry left the Leaky Cauldron on good terms with his old professor.

With the death of Ginny heavy on Harry's shoulders, Snape was surprised that Harry was responding to his advancesa at all. Snape hoped Harry new it was an act. He loved Harry to pieces, but they were the wrong temperment for each other. Snape hoped that Harry would tell him "quit making a fool of yourself and act like you should". He knew that wouldn't happen and that he'd have to make the change slowly on his own, but he hoped, nevertheless.

As Snape walked the long, boring walk down to his house in Spinner's End, he thought about Harry. About his love for the boy, about their relationship, about Harry's feelings for him. It was depressing, but absolutely true that Harry had little or no feelings for him. It hurt knowing that Harry's loving charecter would make him fake it, just for Snape. Snpae's chest hurt in heart ache, so he walked a bit quicker against the cold bluster of England down to his home. His empty house with nothing but books for company. 

"Harry wont mind the dust, I'm sure," Snape thought, smirking at his own stupidity.

When he arrived home, Snape took off his heavy coats and lazed about the house, with a book in hand, in his trousers. It was exciting, the book I mean. It was about four little creatures called hobbits roaming about the world on this grand adventure. It was wonderfully written, just as dull and slow as Snape's life in the beggining and much more exciting, like Harry's, near the end. "Lovely," Snape thought sarcastically, "I'm lazing about at home, by myself, whilst Harry hangs out with his friends. I hate this."


End file.
